


Guy Fawkes Night

by missdibley



Series: The Cohort [5]
Category: British actor - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Guy Fawkes Night, Texting, catching feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5175827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is it about Tom that makes Dot feel domestic all of a sudden?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guy Fawkes Night

When Tom came home from class Wednesday evening, he was surprised to find Dot in his kitchen making spaghetti.

“It’s not spaghetti, it’s pappardelle. Nothing fancy, just a simple ragù and some burrata on top.” She nodded at his couch, which made her ponytail bounce. “Go. Sit. And take this with you.” She placed a plate in one of his hands, and a fork in the other.

“How did you get into my apartment?”

Dot grinned, looking proud of herself. “I picked the lock.”

“What?!”

“I stole your keys.” Dot smirked.

“Dot!” Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

She blinked and tried to look chastened. “Oh, you got me. I crawled in through your bedroom window.”

“Now wait a minute…” Tom felt his chest and his neck get warm.

“Oh calm down.” Dot was winsome as she went up on her toes and kissed the tip of Tom’s nose. “I know your landlady, Mrs. Rao. She let me in when I told her I was your...” She bit her lip. “Your friend.”

“Remind me to take $100 out of my next rent payment, as I fully intend to get my locks changed,” Tom drawled before pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Nice to see you, too.” Dot scowled, then made a show of rubbing the spot where he kissed her.

Tom did as he was told, sitting down on the couch to enjoy his supper. On the table in front of him was a fresh napkin, a small bowl of salad, and a jam jar half full of red wine. While he ate his pasta, which he found to be delicious, Tom watched Dot tidy up in his little kitchen before making herself a plate. When she came into the living room to join him on the couch, he noticed she was wearing his Cambridge sweatshirt.

“So not only did you break into my apartment, but you helped yourself to my sweatshirt as well?”

Dot shrugged as she twirled some noodles around her fork. “It looks good on me.”

“That it does.” Tom kissed her shoulder, and then went back to eating. He was about to ask if he should sort out dessert when the sound of a mobile ringing interrupted him. Dot pulled a phone out from under her shirt, where he guessed it had been tucked into her bra, and looked at the display. Smiling, she set down her plate, popped up, and took the call.

“Remember, remember, the fifth of November! The Gunpowder Treason and Plot! I know of no reason why The Gunpowder Treason! Should ever be forgot!” Dot squealed, then began to laugh. “Hello, love. Isn’t it awfully late there? Ah, just on the way back. A bonfire crawl? Nice. Who with? Teddy? Jesus, please tell him the answer is still no. No.” Dot shook her head. “No. Not even with Weird Al’s dick.”

When Tom choked on his pasta, she rubbed his back as he took a sip of wine. She kissed the top of his head.

“Uh huh. Sure. Monday before? We doing the usual Black Wednesday or are we officially too old for that?” Dot nodded. “Mama should be happy to hear that.” Her eyes widened. “Really? Oh that’s too bad. She wasn’t for you. Dude, what did I say? Who spells their name with a silent Z? I think Papa would say you dodged a bullet and I agree. Fine. Be a brat. See if I care.” Dot smiled. “Love you, too. See you in three weeks, jerk.”

Dot resumed her seat on the couch, leaning forward to grab her plate. Tom let her get a bite before he began to question her.

“Who?”

Dot chewed carefully, swallowed, and turned to him. “Harry.”

“The brother?” When she nodded, Tom went on. “He celebrates Guy Fawkes?”

“He lives in London. It’s where most of his work is.”

“How long has he been over there?”

“Um, four years now? It was after we graduated from college.”

“Did he go to NYU as well?

Dot shook her head. “[Deep Springs](http://www.deepsprings.edu/about/) for the first two years then here, actually, for the last two.”

Tom let out a whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Dot looked proud. “He’s kind of a genius. I try not to hold it against him.”

Tom chuckled. “Older or younger?”

“Younger. By a minute.”

“Twins?”

Dot nodded. “Our poor parents!”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what were you…”

“He’s coming here for Thanksgiving.”

“Won’t your parents miss you?”

“Oh, they’ll be here too. Probably their last trip up north before heading south for winter.”

“Are you going to have the traditional Thanksgiving dinner?”

“No. We usually go to a steakhouse for prime rib.”

“Oh.”

Dot thought she heard something in Tom’s voice. She set down her plate, then paused. “You okay?”

“Sure.”

“Why am I not convinced?”

“It’s nothing.” Tom avoided her gaze.

“What’s nothing?” Dot poked him. “Tell me.”

“I was just thinking of all the work I want to get done before the Christmas break.”

“Sure,” replied Dot. “Hey Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“You want to join us for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“I couldn’t. I mean, I wasn’t angling…” Tom stammered, then blushed when Dot kissed his temple.

“No, you weren’t. I should have extended the invitation.”

“You needn’t have.”

Dot kissed him, then pressed her head into the crook of his neck. “Of course. I mean, what are friends for?”

* * *

Dessert consisted of Tom and Dot spraying each other with whipped cream and then licking it off their naked bodies. After quick showers, Tom convinced Dot to sleep over. He didn’t think she should walk home by herself.

“It’s late, and besides I need you to warm me up.” Tom was very convincing, stroking Dot’s hips as they lay in bed.

“Oh fine. But you owe me breakfast.”

“Deal.” Tom hummed with contentment, then closed his eyes.

“This doesn’t make you my boyfriend. I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Who said anything about that? Besides you were the one who was making dinner for us.”

“There’s no us.”

“I know that.”

“I was just hungry!”

“Cooking in my kitchen.”

“You have nicer pots than I do.”

“Sure I do.” Tom yawned.

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“I… nothing. Good night.”

“‘Night.”  Tom squeezed Dot gently around the waist.

Dot lay there in the dark, listening to Tom breathe. She still insisted that she was not a cuddler, had never been one. But it was nice to do it with him. Her phone buzzed from the nightstand. She picked it up, squinting at the screen. She had a text message.

> **dotty**
> 
> _hawwy_
> 
> **stop calling me that**
> 
> _never - whats up_
> 
> **somethings up**
> 
> _what?_
> 
> **i can hear it in ur voice**
> 
> _we’re texting_
> 
> **earlier on phone**
> 
> _whatev_
> 
> **u have a bf**
> 
> _no i dont_
> 
> **yes x 1 million**
> 
> _no_
> 
> **telling ma**
> 
> _no_
> 
> **is he coming 2 turkey day**
> 
> _who_
> 
> **ur bf**
> 
> _shut up_
> 
> **dotty’s in <3**
> 
> _night butthead_
> 
> **night mouse**

Dot set her phone down. She had been lying on her side, her back to Tom’s chest, and so turned around to face him when she was finished. Looking up at his face, she thought that he looked like an angel as he slept.

“Hey Tom?” There was no reply to her whisper, so she kissed his cheek, shut her eyes, and tried to ignore the warmth in her cheeks, the warmth that she had begun to feel ever since she first saw him in the div school coffee shop.


End file.
